


Family Ties

by PrettyTheWorld



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Christmas, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, community: qaf_giftxchnge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyTheWorld/pseuds/PrettyTheWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas Eve, Brian gets an unwelcome visitor, some bad news, and a reminder of what's really important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 QAF Gift Exchange on Live Journal. Original request: Something fluffy with a side of H/C would be nice Brian/Justin - domestic bliss

“That was fucking hot,” Brian stammered, trying to catch his breath as his arms gave out and he collapsed.

Justin murmured an affirmation from below him. “Best Christmas Eve ever.”

“I would say that we should spend two weeks apart more often,” Brian continued, his voice coming out in breathless gasps, “but I wouldn’t actually mean it.”

“Big words coming from you,” Justin teased, looking up into Brian’s eyes and feeling overwhelmed by the tenderness he saw. Even after nearly fifteen years together, seeing the evidence of how Brian felt about him never got old. 

“Not the only big thing coming from me tonight, Sunshine. You must’ve been a very good boy this year.” Brian leaned down and stole another kiss from Justin’s smiling lips. 

Justin wrapped his arms around Brian’s neck, keeping him anchored, and the two spent several minutes languidly exploring each other’s mouths. 

“I missed you,” Justin murmured against Brian’s lips. He laughed as he felt Brian press his renewed hardness against his hip in response. “And I missed that too.”

“Looks like Santa left you another big package,” Brian said, smirking. 

“Mmmhmm. He’s been very generous with his sack tonight,” Justin purred. “Guess I better investigate.” 

Catching Brian off guard, he flipped them, so Brian was on the bottom, and he slowly crept down Brian’s body until he could take him in his mouth.

“Fuck, Sunshine, you’re good at that,” Brian groaned, his head thrown back against the pillows. His fingers carded and tugged through Justin’s hair as Justin’s tongue slowly but thoroughly worked its magic. 

A loud knock at the door threw them both out of their reverie, and Justin pulled off of Brian with a loud, annoyed slurp. 

“It’s fucking Christmas Eve, what now?” Brian grumbled as Justin moved to the side. 

“We could ignore it,” Justin offered, shrugging. “Who even knows that we decided to stay at the loft tonight?”

“Have you met our friends?” Brian snapped, snagging a pair of boxer briefs and pulling them on, then tossing another pair in Justin’s direction. 

Finally as decent as he cared to present, Brian padded across the loft. “Whatever the fuck this is about, it had better be good,” he barked, throwing open the door.

His sister Claire stood in the hallway, face red and tear-stained. She took one disgusted look up and down her younger brother’s scantily-clad form before looking him in the eye and declaring, “Mom’s dead.”

\-- 

Joan had apparently died of a massive heart attack sometime during the day, and Claire had found her unresponsive when she’d arrived to pick up her mother for the Christmas Eve mass. She’d called 911, and surprisingly handled everything on her own, before coming over to inform Brian of what had happened. 

Brian took the news stoically, asking what Claire wanted him to do, and ultimately, how much money she wanted. When she answered, he wrote the check without question, and handed it over. Justin, after grabbing robes one he’d seen the visitor, remained a quiet bystander, watching the scene unfold between the estranged siblings. 

“You’ll be at the funeral, won’t you?” Claire asked, seeming less hysterical without the burden of her financial woes. 

“Do I have a choice?” Brian replied sardonically.

“Well, I just think it would be nice if both of her children were there to pay respect to their mother.”

Brian snorted. “Respect? You mean in exchange for all the respect St. Joan showed me in her lifetime? Fuck respect.”

Claire’s breathing grew heavier. “Why should she, Brian? What did you ever do to deserve her respect? She tried so hard, and you never gave her an inch, flaunting your nasty lifestyle, and your money. You never gave her anything! And now she’s gone!” she shrieked, fresh tears coating her cheeks.

“He just wrote you a check for ten-thousand fucking dollars,” Justin pointed out, his tone icy. 

Claire looked at him in surprise, as if she’d only just noticed him standing at the kitchen counter, but she said nothing, turning her attention back to Brian. 

“I don’t know how to contact you,” she said, as if her prior outburst hadn’t happened. “I wasn’t even sure you still lived here, honestly.”

“Technically, I don’t,” Brian replied dully. “But where I live is really none of your concern.”

Claire looked confused, but wisely chose not to press the issue, instead asking, “Well, is there a phone number where I can reach you, then?”

Brian walked to the desk and snagged one of his business cards. “You can try one of these,” he suggested. “If I don’t answer directly, leave a message with whatever you need me to know.”

“But will you get the message in time?”

“As long as Mommie Dearest isn’t being laid to rest on baby Jesus’ birthday, then yes. And I’ll be there.”

Claire gave a watery sigh. “Look, Brian. I need to get through tomorrow before I make any arrangements. The boys are both home for Christmas, and it’s going to be hard enough to tell them what happened to their grandma. You know how much she loved her grandsons.”

Brian looked down at Claire, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Not _all_ of her grandsons.”

“You have a son,” Claire said, suddenly remembering. “How old is he now?”

“He’s fourteen. And also not your concern.” 

“Well, Brian,” she said, her tone growing haughty again. “If you had stayed closer to the family, maybe he could have known her.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “He has more grandmothers than he knows what to do with. Ones who love him for who he is, despite that he has four gay parents who haven’t forced him to accept the almighty Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior—and thank God for that!” 

“She only wanted the best for us,” Claire said quietly. “She did her best.”

“And still, poor pious Joanie got punished with a fag for a son. Funny how that worked out.” He paused, spending a contemplative moment focused on the floor before muttering, “Actually, it’s pretty fucking hilarious.” 

Claire gave Brian a pitiful look, her lower lip trembling. “I hope you’ll change your mind about things, Brian. It doesn’t have to be this way between us. Mom and Daddy are both gone now, so I’m the only real family you’ve got.”

Brian looked up sharply, glaring at Claire, before his gaze softened and settled on Justin, still standing in the kitchen. “I have everything I could possibly need. More than I deserve.” He looked back at Claire, his eyes now ablaze. “And none of it includes you. So, don’t give me this caring big sister bullshit when you’ve never been anything more than a selfish bitch. You’ve got my money and my word, so if that’s all you need, then get the fuck out.” 

With that, Brian turned his back on his sister and stalked across the loft and into the dark living room, sinking wearily into a chair. 

Justin watched him leave the room, and then looked back at Claire as her eyes filled with tears yet again. “You should probably leave,” he suggested in a helpful stage whisper.

With a final glare at him, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the loft, angrily slapping at the elevator button.

\--

“What do you need?” Justin asked after he had closed and locked the door behind Claire. He squeezed in to join Brian on the chair, relieved when Brian allowed it and slid over a bit to accommodate him. Justin studied Brian carefully, trying to gauge his mental state. 

Brian sat quietly, his expression unreadable as he focused on the blank television screen against the wall. After a few long seconds, he turned to look at Justin. “I can’t believe she bit it on Christmas Eve. I can’t decide if it’s completely like her, or a tragic miscalculation.”

Justin humored him with a snicker before turning serious. Reaching out to stroke his fingers through Brian’s hair, he said, “You know everything your sister said was bullshit, right?”

“Of course I do,” Brian retorted, in a tone that Justin knew meant he probably didn’t.

“They don’t appreciate you. They never have,” Justin said gently. “They never took the time to see who you really are.”

Brian was silent again for a long time. Justin settled in against him, listening to his heartbeat, as Brian tucked an arm around him. When Brian finally spoke again, his voice reverberated against Justin’s ear. “I’m not sad that she’s gone. I gave up on her ever being the mother I wanted a long time ago.”

Justin pressed a kiss to Brian’s bare chest through the opening in the robe. “I know,” he said. “But did you stop believing she was the mother you deserved?”

There was a slight hitch in Brian’s breathing, and when he finally responded to Justin, his voice was rough. “Yes. Sometime after I met you.”

Justin looked up at Brian with adulation, not entirely anticipating that response. Conversations about Joan had always been few and far between, unless it was one of the rare occasions that she had made an unwelcome appearance at Brian’s office, or the one time they had run into her at the grocery store, and even then, Brian’s commentary was withering but brief. He rarely spoke about how he actually felt toward his mother, so that admission was a surprise to Justin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Brian snapped, but there was absolutely no venom in his words, and his actions belied him as he pulled Justin’s body in closer. 

“I just didn’t…” Justin began, unsure of what to say. The fact that Brian could still render him speechless after a decade and a half together never failed to amaze him. 

Brian sighed. “Everything changed when you came into the picture. You know that by now. Fuck, you and everyone else knew it long before I was willing to admit it.”

Justin had to laugh at that, and Brian obliged him with a tiny smirk before continuing. “Earlier tonight at Mikey’s… here, before my lovely sister barged in… tomorrow at Deb’s…. That’s the family I’ve chosen. The family _we_ deserve. As dysfunctional and assorted as we are.”

Considering this, Justin smiled, realizing it was true. Debbie and Jennifer both lovingly and equally mothered Brian and him. Carl was, in his own way, the patriarch of the group. Tucker would never be a father figure to either of them, but both he and Molly filled their own important roles. As much as he tried not to let it show sometimes, Gus was clearly the center of Brian’s world, second only to Justin. Michael, Ben, Hunter, Ted, Blake, Emmett, Drew, Lindsay, Melanie, and Jenny all rounded it out.

They argued, annoyed each other, and got up in each other’s business far more than necessary, but they all loved each other, supported each other, and, for the most part, accepted each other as-is. They were a family, in all the ways that mattered. 

On some level, Justin had always known Brian felt that way about all of them, but it had never warmed his heart more than it did in that moment. 

“Let’s go back to Britin,” Brian said abruptly, standing.

“Tonight?” Justin asked, moving to follow him back into the bedroom.

“Yes. Right now,” Brian decided. “We only decided to stay here because I wasn’t going to wait thirty minutes to fuck your brains out. Mission accomplished.”

Justin grinned, remembering just that. “Ah yes, and I believe I have a outstanding gift from Santa still waiting.”

Brian glanced down, smirking. “Oh, it still stands.”

Justin knew perfectly well that neither he nor Brian were hard at that moment, but as they rushed to throw on proper clothing and close up the loft, he knew it wouldn’t be long before they were again.

Once they were in the car and headed toward home, Justin glanced over at Brian in the driver’s seat. “Are you okay?”

Brian looked back at Justin briefly, offering a small but sincere smile. “No, not really,” he admitted. “But I’ll be damned if Joan is going to ruin the next twenty-four hours for us. Speaking of which,” he continued, glancing at the dashboard clock, “Merry Christmas, Sunshine.” The time read 12:01.

“Merry Christmas,” Justin offered back, reaching over to squeeze Brian’s hand atop the gearshift.

He knew there was still a lot left to get through, and that Brian still had a lot of emotions to process as he went through the motions of the next few days, dealing with his sister and other extended family members, and Joan’s funeral services, but for the moment, they were putting it aside.

Now, the only focus was going back to _their_ home, making love in _their_ bed, and waking up together on Christmas morning, before joining the rest of _their_ family for the day’s festivities.

In a strange way, Justin was now looking forward to this Christmas more than he had any other… and by the way Brian snaked his fingers up to lace tightly through Justin’s while he continued to drive, he had a feeling Brian agreed.


End file.
